


I Can Feel You In My Blood

by Demerite



Series: Trektober 2019 [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alpha Gabriel Lorca, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Universe, Omega James T. Kirk, Praise Kink, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 11:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: After a long, and very frustrating day, the last thing Gabriel needs to deal with is a needy omega.





	I Can Feel You In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> So y'all know how I wrote fanfiction of Aisha's fanfiction? Now I'm writing fanfiction of my own fanfiction. If you haven't read Plot My Rightful Place, this is probably not gonna make a lot of sense (although if you have read it this might not make sense either) but basically in that fic, Mirror!AOS Jim was presented to Mirror Lorca as a gift, and from there, much sex and bickering were had. 
> 
> So of course, I'm taking that scenario and dynamic, and writing A/B/O. Because I can't control myself apparently. 
> 
> For the Day 4 Prompt: Urgency For Sex.

It’s been a long and very frustrating day. Gabriel returns to his quarters tense and angry, a headache brewing behind his eyes, and the desire to hurt someone very real, and very present. That desire only intensified when he looks around to find no trace of Jim where he’d left him that morning, despite Jim’s promise to stay put until Gabriel returned from the bridge. Even so, the door panel is still intact, and he hasn’t had any deaths reported to him, so it’s unlikely that Jim’s gotten bored and gone wandering. Jim’s boredom tends to have a bodycount.

Still, no sign of Jim, which doesn’t generally bode well for _anyone. _

“Jim.” Gabriel pitches his voice to carry, rather than shouting for him. He also doesn’t phrase it as a request.

There’s silence, and after a breath, a low, pained noise carries across to him, coming from the direction of the bathroom. It sounds concerningly like a whimper.

Gabriel pushes down the surge of what might be concern, forces himself to keep his steps measured and slow as he crosses the room, one hand resting on his sword-hilt, sense alert for danger. Jim is the closest thing he has to a weak spot, and Gabriel knows he has more than enough enemies who wouldn’t even be stopped by a locked door.

The body catches him by surprise. Gabriel takes a half-step back from it before he can register the pale, waxy cast to the skin, and the dark, congealed blood. The man’s been dead for hours. The cause of his death is apparent; the blood that drenches the front of his uniform and pools stickily beneath him, soaking into the carpet has all come from the gap slash across his throat. There’s no sign of the man’s dagger.

Vaguely, Gabriel notes the dead man’s uniform - security. He’s not one of the men who was posted outside his door this morning. Gabriel doesn’t recognise the face, and that’s cause for concern. He makes a point of knowing everyone’s faces; because if you know what everyone looks like, you can pick out an interloper in seconds.

The face is unfamiliar, but the deep scratches that mar the left cheek are more concerning at this moment. They look like they’ve been made by someone’s fingernails. Gabriel’s heart rate spikes.

“Jim?” This time he does ask, rounding the end of the bed, eyes tracking quick and cautious, around the room, scanning for any further signs of a disturbance, and for Jim.

There’s a pile of dark fabric pooled on the floor by the foot of the bed, and when Gabriel nudges it with a boot, it reveals itself to be the sleep pants Jim had worn to bed the previous night, discarded haphazardly. Normally, Jim remembers to tidy up after himself, but if he hadn’t shed them willingly, well, that would explain their presence on the floor. 

The bathroom door is ajar.

Gabriel slips through it, and there, curled into a miserable ball, forehead pressed against the cool tiles of the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, is Jim.

He looks awful, eyes-half closed, near-convulsive shivers running through his slim body. The shirt he’s wearing, which Gabriel notices in some far-away part of his mind is one of his, is too big for him, sliding down one shoulder and showing off the collection of dark purple bruises on his neck, all the way down to his collarbone, left there by Gabriel last night.

Jim looks up, alerted by some small sound, and his eyes are distant and hazy. He looks like he’s been drugged, and Gabriel’s mind goes instantly to the fact that he can’t get revenge on the dead man on the bedroom floor, because now he _really _wants to hurt someone.

“Gabriel…” Jim slurs, breaking Gabriel out of his murderous thoughts, because Jim _never _uses Gabriel’s first name. He’s allowed to, when it’s just the two of them - except when they’re in bed - but he always sticks to ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’, even if it isn’t always said with the greatest of respect for Gabriel’s authority. 

Gabriel is across the room in seconds, dropping to his knees on the tiles, reaching out cautiously to Jim, who lets out a strangled sob and all but throws himself into Gabriel’s arms. Gabriel has to shift his weight to remain balanced, Jim had moved so fast and with such desperation that he nearly tips them both over.

Jim’s still shaking, breath coming quick and sharp. He wraps his arms around Gabriel’s neck, curling against him, straddling his lap.

Perplexed, and not a little concerned, Gabriel runs one hand up and down Jim’s spine, the touch bordering on soothing.

“Hey.” He gets a gentle grip on the back of Jim’s neck, and when that doesn’t capture his attention, he squeezes, just a little, “You alright? Tell me.” The words aren’t a request. He needs to hear Jim speak, needs to assess what condition he’s in, work out what’s wrong with him and if he needs medical attention, which will be a struggle in and of itself; Jim’s injured or attempted to injure more medical staff than anyone else on the _Buran. _

“Yeah.” Jim’s voice sounds rough and worn, “No.” He lets out another soft whimper, twisting in Gabriel’s lap, practically _writhing _against him. With Jim pressed against him like this it’s impossible for Gabriel to miss the fact that he’s hard. “Fuck.” Jim hisses.

Gabriel smooths his hand back down Jim’s back again. “What’s-” he starts to ask.

“_My heat!” _Jim bursts out, sounding somewhere between stricken and outraged.

That explains Jim’s condition, but it raises more questions. Jim’s supposed to be on suppressants; Gabriel doesn’t have time to deal with a needy Omega who goes into heat unpredictably and messes with his control. Jim is enough of a menace already. The point is, he shouldn’t _be _in heat, but now that Jim’s said it, Gabriel can _smell _him, the intoxicating scent of unbonded Omega pheromones seeming to fill the room.

“How?” Gabriel asks, because it doesn’t make sense, and he’s trying to keep his head clear here.

“That bastard.” Jim snarls, jerking his head sharply towards the bedroom, “He burst in here while I was sleeping, he got me with something.” He tugs up his shirt to show the bruise on his thigh, the sort made by pressing too hard with a hypo. He curls himself tighter against Gabriel’s chest, rocking his hips forwards, nosing at Gabriel’s throat, inhaling the Alpha scent that Gabriel knows he’s got to be flooding the surrounding area with in response to Jim, but it’s not as if he can control it. Jim is desperate and furious in his arms and Gabriel _wants. _

“Okay.” Gabriel says. He doesn’t know exactly what the man bleeding into his carpet hit Jim with, but there are drugs that can trigger heat. He also knows that there’s a relatively easy way to deal with that without any more of his medical staff getting stabbed.

“Okay?” Jim repeats, struggling for coherency but still managing to give Gabriel a deeply suspicious look.

Jim has to know that there’s only one solution to this problem. Gabriel doesn’t trust the average member of his crew on a good day, let alone around a 19-year-old, unbonded Omega in heat.

“You’re mine, remember.” He mutters against Jim’s hair, “I’ll get you through this.”

“You have better things to do, _Captain._” Jim squirms in Gabriel’s lap, “Or have you forgotten your ship?” He doesn’t sound like his heart’s really in the protest though, almost as if he’s just trying to keep up appearances, paying the role of unwilling prisoner again.

Gabriel lets out a low, disbelieving laugh, “Better things to do than spend the next three days with you underneath me, begging for my knot? I don’t think so.”

“Fuck you.” Jim mumbles, but that’s pretty much a standard response from him.

“Not how this works.” Gabriel reminds him, and even with his heat taking a considerable amount of his focus, Jim rolls his eyes at him, for a brief second looking exactly like his usual self, all sharp knives and sharper wit.

Jim mutters something unintelligible, one hand dropping down in an unsubtle attempt at opening Gabriel’s uniform trousers. Gabriel catches it by the wrist, tugs it away even as Jim lets out a plaintive, desperate whine.

“Please, Gabriel, I _need _you.” He whimpers, eyes wide and unfocused and imploring, and Gabriel has _never _heard him talk like this before, has never had him beg from so little, “Please, I need to come, I need you to make me come…” his voice trails off into a low groan when Gabriel winds a hand through short blond hair, tugging Jim’s head back enough that they can look properly at each other. Jim’s pupils are blown wide with lust, his breathing sharp and shallow, all arousal and desperation and anger. He rolls his hips like he’s not even aware he’s doing it, groans and curses anew when Gabriel releases his grip on his hair to hold his hips still with a grip like iron.

That only seems to ratchet up Jim’s arousal and desperation even more, he writhes in Gabriel’s grip, letting out a low, broken sound akin to a sob.

“Please.” He repeats, “Please Gabriel, I’ve been so good, I haven’t even touched myself yet, please, I need - just to take the edge off, come on, it’ll hardly make an impact, please-”

“Jim.” Gabriel pulls the Alpha into his voice, the command tone he normally doesn’t have to use to get Jim’s attention and obedience.

Jim stops talking immediately, his response to an Alpha giving an order instantaneous and total. The only sound he makes is his short, panting breaths, the occasional whimper slipping through as his control wavers.

“Well done.” Gabriel tells him, catches Jim’s chin with one hand when he tries to drop his gaze, “You remembered the rules.” Because Gabriel had made it very clear when Jim arrived in his life that the only person allowed to touch Jim was Gabriel himself. “That’s good.”

Jim lets another whimper escape him, louder this time, at the praise. Gabriel can’t help but smile a little at that, he’s well aware Jim’s reaction to being praised, and he doesn’t often indulge it, but now seems like a good time.

“You did well.” He murmurs, and Jim moans softly, cheeks colouring, ducking his head. _Shy_.

Jim lets out a louder cry when Gabriel reaches between them and wraps a hand around his cock, hips jerking forward to press into the contact.

“Shh.” Gabriel soothes, only partially aware he’s doing it, “That’s it.” He strokes Jim’s cock slowly, swiping his thumb through the precome beading at the tip; Jim’s already desperate enough from being in need of release for so long that there’s more than enough to ease the slide of his hand.

Jim seems to almost sigh with relief, tension draining from him as he thrusts into Gabriel’s hand, almost cautious at first, but faster and with less restraint when he realises that Gabriel isn’t teasing him, and actually intends to let get him off. Gabriel lets him, doesn't move to slow his thrusts of control him in any way. Jim needs this, he knows, and there’ll be plenty more after this; Jim’s young and there’s no telling exactly how intense his heat may end up being, no telling what the drug in his system will do to him. There will be time to tease and torment later, but now Gabriel lets Jim chase his release, his thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated, unable to stop small, breathless sounds from escaping with each movement.

When Jim comes, it’s with a broken-sounding sob, the sound punched out of him as he slumps forwards, curling inwards and pressing his face into Gabriel's neck, breathing sharp and harsh and fast. Gabriel keeps his hand moving until Jim flinches away from the touch, whimpering, hypersensitive. He tries to bat Gabriel's hand away, weak and uncoordinated, but he ends up just leaning against Gabriel's chest, arms draped loosely around his waist. 

Gabriel holds him there for a few moments, until Jim has stopped shaking. Slowly, Gabriel feels him relax, until he's leaning on him like so much dead weight, lapsed into unconsciousness. Gabriel knows he'll be out for a couple of hours, more than enough time for him to make arrangements for him to be off the bridge for a few days. He'd meant what he said about getting Jim through this. 

Even passed out, Jim is surprisingly light when Gabriel manages to stand, holding him in his arms. Jim mumbles sleepily and presses his face into Gabriel's shoulder as he's carried out of the bathroom. 

Jim makes a low, dissatisfied whine in the back of his throat when Gabriel lays him on the bed and steps back from him, so Gabriel just sighs and removes boots, sword, and armour, and settles onto the other side of the bed, close enough to touch. He can always send orders from right here, if need be.

His ship can wait, just for a little while. 

**Author's Note:**

> There's a high chance I'll write another chapter of this at some point when it isn't Kinktober anymore and I have more time on my hands. 
> 
> -
> 
> Want to know more about Trektober? Click [HERE](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/post/188059640163/trektober) for the info post on Aisha's tumblr, or [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Trektober2019) for the AO3 collection to read our fic. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://demerite.tumblr.com/)!


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